His Return
by Oliviaface
Summary: If Hermione had been just a BIT less mad and a BIT more shocked, this is how Ron's return to her and Harry might have gone. Oneshot, AU takes place during Deathly Hallows , Hermione's POV, lots of R/Hr fluff


**A/N: Alright, so there's this theory that the universe is actually a multiverse- every decision you or anyone else makes creates another alternate universe, splitting off endlessly. If Hermione wasn't _quite_ the feisty one we all know and love, this is how that little scene in the tent might have played out in one of those alternate universes. Come on R/Hr fans, you know this is what you wanted to happen :P **

_Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker toward Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half raised his arms._

_Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach._

_"Ouch- ow- gerroff! What the- ? Hermione- OW!"_

_"You- complete- arse- Ronald- Weasley!"_

"You! You…" I couldn't think of a bad enough word to call him, and abruptly my wrath subsided as quickly at it had come. My eyes stung, and I knew the inevitable torrent of tears was about to make its appearance. After the first sob escaped me, I covered my face with my hands- some feeble attempt to conceal the obvious. This was too much… I felt weak… and suddenly I was in his arms. I was scarcely aware of what was happening. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried. They'd been held in for too long, and all I could do was let them run their course. As he stroked my hair, I thought of Dumbledore's funeral- how such vastly different circumstances (a death versus a homecoming) had led to such a similar place. Some part of my brain kept on repeating, "He's back… he's really back." And that became my mantra, for I still wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't another dream.

I'd dreamed it so many times: his return. After I'd gotten past the anger (or thought I'd gotten past it… my behavior at his arrival showed I still held onto some of that rage), I'd dreamed of seeing him, of running into his arms, of telling him how I truly felt so that he'd never leave me again. I'd dreamt, like I already had for years, of his kisses, of his strong arms with scars from brains, of his freckles, of his deep blue eyes which never lied, of my future red-haired children. That dream was so far away now, barely within reach of my fingertips; no one was sure of the future anymore. Well, it wasn't as if I was sure of the future before Voldemort's return, but at least I had had a general idea of which direction it was heading. Now, it was a blank void; I could only see darkness ahead for our trio. I realized after a while that I had stopped crying. I looked up at Ron, ready to say those three magic words before one of us died and it was too late, but what ended up coming out was "I ran after you, I called for you, I begged you to come back-"

"I know, I know, and I am so so sorry, Hermione." His voice was rough, as if he was holding back tears, and the sadness in his eyes did nothing to make me think otherwise. "I was a complete git, an idiot. I wanted to come back the second I Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers." The whole time he had spoken, he had been stroking my face with gentle fingertips, rubbing away my tears with his thumbs; I thought my heart might burst with the sweetness of it all.

"Snatchers?" I asked, though I could already guess, despite the fact that I felt as though my heart might explode out of my chest.

"They're gangs- they try to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood traitors and turning them into the Ministry for a reward- really nasty stuff," he said, disgust obvious in his features and tone.

"Horrible," I agreed, the faces of people who fit that description coming to mind. "But, how did you get away?"

"Fought 'em, tried to Disapparate back to the riverbank where you were camped, but I ended up miles away and Splinched myself again," he held up a hand to show two missing fingernails, "and when I finally got there you were gone."

"But then… how did you find us again? We can't afford to have anybody else do the same." I was already thinking of new precautions we could take with our camp.

"With this," he replied as he held up the Deluminator. My expression must have been bewildered enough because before I could even utter, "how?" he was saying, "It's a long story. I'll tell it when Harry's here." He shivered, and performed a quick drying spell on the both of us.

I turned in his arms to see that Harry was, indeed, gone. "Where is he?" I asked, not sure why he would leave. Both he and Ron had seen me cry before; hell, he'd seen me cry because of Ron.

Ron's ears flamed red and he averted his eyes from mine. "I, um, expect he's giving us some privacy." He was suddenly painfully nervous.

Something very... _strange_ was going on. "Why would we need privacy?" I asked, sounding suspicious despite my effort not to. I was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that we were still in each others' arms, and our faces were very, very close.

He sighed, and met my gaze with something new in his eyes. "Hermione, I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen without interrupting, okay?" I nodded before I could stop myself. He began to speak, a long string of words uninterrupted by punctuation, "I'm really scared to say this because I think it might ruin our friendship, but then again our friendship is really strong- I mean look at how we are now, I walked out on you guys and now we're fine again, or almost fine, but really when I left I felt terrible and every day I was away I just wanted to be back and it wasn't because I wanted to help Harry find the Horcruxes or save the world and that sounds really selfish but the reason I came back is, well… you."

"Why would that ruin our friendship?" I asked, trying to sound casual, while internally spasaming with hope. Was he saying what I think he was saying? I tried to tamp down that hope, so my heart wouldn't be crushed yet again.

"Because if you only wanted to be friends after I finish telling you that while friendship is great I definitely don't feel like just your friend any more, and not asking you to the Yule Ball was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made, and the only reason I even went out with Lavender was to make you jealous and get some practice kissing so I wouldn't be total rubbish when it came time to kiss you, which I wanted to very badly at Bill and Fleur's wedding when we were dancing and you were so gorgeous I could barely speak… well that may be sort of awkward. You know, acting like friends when you know that I'll always want… more… oh Merlin, this is not how I imagined telling you this."

I felt like crying again, I could scarcely believe what he was telling me. "You didn't ruin our friendship, Ron," I said, voice a little wobbly.

He let go of me so suddenly, I almost fell backwards, and got up to go sit on the bunk staring straight ahead. "Well great," he said, his voice hollow and emotionless, "I'm glad we can still be friends."

For a second I sat on the ground, shocked and confused, then I realized how my words could be misconstrued. I was practically laughing as I said, "No you great prat, I mean I feel the same way!" He looked at me, confused and half-smiling as he stood to walk that short distance back to me. He held out a hand to help me up, and when I stood, our bodies were mere inches apart.

"So you're saying…" he began tentatively.

I finished for him, "That I definitely feel more than just friendship for you too? Yeah, that's what I'm saying." And with that, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth- an action which took me, though probably more so him by surprise. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me so tightly that my feet came off the ground. His lips opened slightly, and I opened mine in response, and suddenly our tongues were touching, tasting, getting to know one another. I was beginning to understand why Dumbledore always said love was so powerful, because I'd cast all sorts of spells and charms, but this felt like _real _magic. Kissing Krum was NOTHING compared to this, mostly because I didn't just want this, I needed this. This was what I'd been waiting for, dreaming about, for years and years. This is what I had been expecting after he asked me to the Yule Ball (that plan failed), after every Quidditch game he won (Ginny beat me to that one), after he asked me to dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding (interrupted by Death Eaters). He set me back on my feet as we came up for air, both breathing heavily, grinning like idiots. He leaned down again (our height difference was going to be an interesting obstacle) just as Harry stuck his head into the tent and asked, "Is it safe yet?"

We jumped apart as far as the tent would let us. Harry rolled his eyes as the rest of his body followed his head in. I looked at Ron- he was blushing a Weasley shade of red and I was pretty sure I was doing the same. He looked at both of us, back and forth. "So you guys finally figured it out, yeah?" Ron came over to me to hold my hand with only a little bit of awkwardness.

"Yeah," we replied simultaneously, facing each other.

Harry sighed. "I guess I'll be taking first watch then." He grabbed a blanket and headed back outside.

Ron and I now had the task of changing into our pajamas. We turned our backs on each other, like always, but now the magnetic pull between us seemed to be magnified tenfold. My bare skin wanted to feel his bare skin on mine. I shivered, knowing that that was now a very definite possibility. "All done?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Yeah," I replied, mine equally nervous.

I heard the bunk's springs creak and turned to find him sitting on the matress, shirtless. I'd seen him without a shirt before, but the prospects were endless now: I could touch him, kiss him, whenever I wanted. I moved my eyes upwards to find him smirking at me. He wiggled his index finger at me, signaling me to come to him. I felt myself blush again, but I obliged him anyway. I gazed at him, wanting so much but afraid that if we started I wouldn't be able to stop. I limited myself to a short, chaste kiss and a "goodnight" before I began to climb into the upper bunk. He grabbed my hips, sending an electric thrill through my body. He stood up, towering over me of course, and pulled me to him. Our lips met for the third time, no less precious than the first. I wanted to kiss him till I ran out of oxygen but unfortunately, tonight, we had restrictions. I pulled away. "We have to sleep, it'll be a new shift soon enough."

He sighed. "Yeah, you're right. No matter how much I want to keep kissing you, I could use some rest." I pecked him once more, whispered "goodnight", and climbed up onto the top bunk.

However, after about ten minutes of listening to Ron toss and turn (he usually fell asleep straight away, and then his steady breathing would lull me to sleep as well), it was obvious we both weren't getting any sleep anytime soon, so I decided to make a bold move. I slipped out from under the covers and hopped down as quietly as I could. I lifted up his covers and his eyes snapped open. "What are you doing? What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound worried but smiling nonetheless.

"Nothing's wrong, I just didn't feel like sleeping alone tonight." There, let anyone ever try to say I wasn't brave when it came to the bedroom department. He looked like a deer in headlights. "Scoot over," I whispered, and he did so immediately. I slid in next to him, and pulled the covers over us, not quite sure how to arrange myself. I didn't get in his bed just to be in it- I wanted to sleep with his arms around me (something I'd been fantasizing about for quite some time). We were facing each other; the obvious thing to do would have been to put my leg over his hip, but I didn't feel like acquainting those parts of our bodies _just_ yet. "Um," I said, so very eloquently.

"Try turning the other way," he suggested gently, motioning the direction I should face with his chin. I did, and his arm came around my waist, tucking me fully against his body.

I made a little "mmm" of pleasure that sounded much more sensuous than it should have. I felt him freeze with a sharp intake of breath behind me.

"What?" I asked.

He chuckled and I felt him shake his head. "Just… _you_. The way you sound, the way you feel, especially in my arms. You're mine, finally. I still can't believe it."

My heart swelled to bursting at his words. "Neither can I," I whispered. I laid my hand over the one that encircled me, and let myself drift off to what I expected to be the best sleep I had gotten in a while.

Some time later, I woke to the sound of someone entering the tent. I knew by the sound of the footsteps and breathing that it was Harry. The only person whose I knew better was Ron. Not wanting to endure Harry's jibes when he found us this way, I pretended to be asleep. I expected Harry to laugh as he witnessed us, but he didn't; he stood by the edge of the bunk for a few seconds, then sighed a sigh that was somewhere between contentment and jealousy. He reached over me and shook Ron's shoulder, whispering, "Oi, mate, your shift," with an obvious smile in his voice.

Ron shifted in his sleep, muttering, "Go 'way Harry, we're not done snogging," and pushing a certain part of himself against my rear; the latter tightened things low in my belly.

Harry snorted and shook his shoulder again, and I felt Ron tense as he woke. He gently removed himself from me, and I immediately mourned the loss of his body against mine. He carefully climbed over me, ready to replace Harry as guard.

They didn't say anything for a moment, but I began to feel distinctly uncomfortable when I realized they were both staring down at me. Harry cleared his throat.

Ron sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going." Harry went to his pack to get his pajamas, and the cloth "door" of the tent opened, but Ron's footsteps came back to the bunk; a second later he sat on the mattress. Fingertips brushed softly down my face, from temple to chin, and the warmth of his breath tickled my ear.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice rough.

The world stopped turning. I barely noticed his lips press to my forehead before he left. He loved me? He loved me. He _loved_ me. My eyes stung and my throat tightened.

The bunk creaked as Harry climbed onto it. "Hermione?" he asked quietly into the dark.

"Yeah?" I responded, the immensity of Ron's confession making me forget I was supposed to be asleep.

"You heard that, right?"

I feel my cheeks heat up, took a deep breath to prepare myself-

"Goodnight, Hermione." And with that, he flopped onto his back to get some shut-eye. Just by the tone of his voice, I knew he was grinning like mad at the ceiling.

I couldn't keep a similar expression off my face- it was the best reason to smile I'd had in a long time. "Goodnight, Harry." I closed my eyes; morning with the boy I loved… no, the _man_ who loved _me_, couldn't come soon enough.


End file.
